


You Can Have All You Need

by Miaou Jones (miaoujones)



Category: South Park
Genre: Exhibitionism, Friendship, Love, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-08
Updated: 2011-09-08
Packaged: 2017-10-23 13:03:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miaoujones/pseuds/Miaou%20Jones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Companionship, sex, and most of all love among friends: Tweek doesn't see how it can be easy; Craig and Clyde don't see what's difficult about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can Have All You Need

**Author's Note:**

> Title borrowed from lyrics to Portishead's "Beautiful," which is what I wanted for them here. 

Clyde is holding Craig in his arms, gazing up at him, Craig looking down. Craig's pants have been pulled down and his naked legs are locked around Clyde above his waist, his cock pressed between them high up on Clyde's stomach.

Tweek continues watching, furtively, because he knows it's private—but they're right there in the kitchen, and he just, they're just so—they are, they just _are_ ; whatever they are, they definitely are, and he can't look away.

Clyde keeps fingering Craig without shifting their positions; jesus christ, he's so fucking strong, holding Craig up like that. Craig isn't little but Clyde is holding him easily, like he's a girl or Tweek or something. Their mouths are open, lips moving, and Tweek can't hear their words but their soft laughter and moans reach him. He inhales deep, wishing he could chew and swallow their pleasure, gnawing on the side of his hand instead.

Craig arches, his fingers tightening on Clyde's bare shoulders; Clyde's feet skate out, widening his stance to support the weight of Craig's orgasm. As Craig goes soft, not just his cock but his whole body, Clyde keeps holding him, easy, so easy.

When Clyde finally lets Craig down, Craig turns toward the darkened hallway outside the kitchen and Clyde looks with him, and Tweek realizes they're looking at him. Smiling at him, like they, oh god, like they knew he was there, like they set him up.

Tweek wants to explain that their door was unlocked, but they already know it was. They did it on purpose. He doesn't want to think about why because he could be wrong; it could be a lot of things, like maybe they're exhibitionists and they don't care who comes through their door when they're going at it—maybe they forgot they'd invited him over tonight and they ordered a pizza or something and thought he was the delivery guy when he first came in, that's who they were showing off for, that's who they wanted to see them, to watch them—

"Tweek."

The sound of his name twitches through him. It was Craig's voice, but Clyde is the one coming toward him. The door is still unlocked and if Tweek is fast enough he can make it out and they'll never have to talk about this; and if he thinks about them while he's lying in bed, his hand as snug around his aching dick as Craig's legs were around Clyde, well, they can guess and suspect all they want, but they'll never know, no, they can't prove anything.

"Hey." This time it's Clyde talking. He's holding out his hands, his arms—those arms that are strong enough to hold Craig like he's a doll—Clyde's arms are open wide...

Tweek folds himself into them, hiding against Clyde's chest so they can't see his face. Craig's come, not yet dry, rubs from Clyde's skin onto Tweek's. He doesn't mind.

He jerks against Clyde involuntarily when he feels Craig's hands on his hips. Tweek says something but it's rendered inarticulate by Clyde's body where Tweek's mouth is pressed open against him. He doesn't know what he was trying to say but apparently Craig does, because he says, "Okay, come on," and slides his hands around to the front of Tweek's waist. Tweek looks down, forehead pushing against Clyde, and watches Craig's hands unfasten his jeans. He closes his eyes as he feels the denim sliding down his legs, hands—Craig's—guiding him out of them.

And then other hands, Clyde's—Clyde's hands and arms are lifting Tweek up and Tweek wishes he could do anything, anything at all, as easily and effortlessly as Clyde is holding him. "Wrap around me," Clyde breathes into his ear, and Tweek does.

"Don't, oh jesus, don't drop me," Tweek whispers.

Clyde's arms tighten around him. They're as strong as they look, so fucking powerful, god. Tweek's cock is caught between their bodies and he whines, trying to push into the trap more. When Clyde's finger traces his cleft, Tweek wraps around him tighter, opening himself more. Something that has to be Clyde's cockhead brushes in a hot, slick tease against Tweek and he tries to slip down, but Clyde teases too, shifting Tweek higher. Tweek whimpers as he gazes down at Clyde, then chokes on a moan that gets tangled with the smile Clyde gives him.

Tweek can hear Craig moving around and wants to see what he's doing, but he doesn't want to look away from Clyde's smile. When he feels Craig behind them again—behind him, facing Clyde—he thinks maybe Craig is stroking Clyde off. As much as Tweek likes Clyde's smile, he has to close his eyes now because that—oh god, that's just too—

And then his eyes come wide open as Craig's slick finger pushes inside him.

"Oh sweet jesus~"

Clyde smiles again, or still: "Yeah?"

Tweek looks into his eyes, tries to breathe, gives up, breathes in the surrender, breathes helplessly, "Please."

Clyde lowers him, Craig guides them. Only as Craig's fingers are spreading him open and Clyde's cockhead is nudging, pushing inside him; only then does Tweek remember he thought it would be Craig, Craig's cock, in those insane moments when he let himself think something like this. He thought it would be Craig because he didn't think it could be Clyde. As they open him up and Clyde fills him, Tweek can't remember why he thought that, because this, this, ohfuckjesus, oh god fucking christ, _this_ ~

It's over too soon, like everything good. Tweek wants to keep riding after he comes because Clyde hasn't yet, but he can't make the sounds that mingle with his heavy breaths into words. As soon as his feet touch the floor and they see that he's not going to fall over, Craig goes to his knees and takes Clyde into his mouth. Clyde braces both hands against the counter, stretching and flexing and tautening as he arches deeper into Craig's mouth, down his throat. In Tweek's mad fantasies, there are always fingers burrowed and wound into hair. Since Clyde's are otherwise occupied, Tweek puts his own fingers in Craig's hair. Fingers in hair are supposed to pull back or push forward, but it's all Tweek can do to hold on. He keeps holding on as Clyde comes and Craig swallows.

His fingers slide through and out of Craig's hair as Craig gets to his feet to kiss Clyde. Tweek turns his head because it's one thing to spy on your best friends fucking, and it's another to intrude on something like this.

He looks back when one of them touches his arm. They're smiling at him again and he wants to smile back but he can't, and when he opens his mouth all he can do is breathe, and he kind of thinks he's lucky he can do even that much.

"Do you want a glass of water?" Clyde asks.

That's not what Tweek wants, but he nods anyhow. Clyde takes a glass with two penguins and the logo for the Denver Aquarium from the drainboard and turns on the faucet, waving his hand under the water to test for acceptable temperature.

When Clyde gives him the filled glass, Tweek cups his hands around and looks down through the bottom at his own feet. "I don't want to go," he blurts.

"So don't go," Craig says.

"Ever, I mean." Tweek had to say it, but he still feels like climbing into the glass and sinking down to the bottom.

"Okay," Clyde says.

"What do you mean?" Tweek looks up, regards them with suspicion one after the other. "It's not—it not as easy as that. Jesus, you can't just say something like that..."

"It's as easy as you make it," Craig says.

"No, but—"

"Tweek." Craig comes over and Tweek thinks Craig might try to kiss him, which Tweek is pretty sure he won't be able to stop and won't be able to survive. But Craig only lays a hand on Tweek's head. Tweek looks up at him and Craig's mouth curves, so slight you wouldn't see it if you weren't this close; Craig smiles just for him.

Then he smiles for Clyde, too, which is strangely and undeniably even better. The way they grin at each other when they don't think anyone else is looking has always curled hot and low in Tweek's throat; the way they smile at each other when they know he's there is like pure oxygen, smooth and gorgeous. Just like them.

They are so—oh man, they are; they just are.

And as he lets their smiles touch him, one after the other, together, he is too.


End file.
